Why travel halfway round the world to a dot in the ocean named after your accountant? I couldn’t help asking this question every time I saw a sign telling me I was on Ile Maurice, the correct French name for Mauritius. Here we have a Creole-speaking island off the coast of Africa, founded by the Dutch, once governed by the British, with English as its official language, and full of people of Indian origin and Chinese-owned businesses dealing in rupees. A confusing place to grapple with. Yet I decided that it’ s precisely this confluence of cultures, the wondrous surprises thrown up by this soup of influences, that made the place worth travelling to. This and the fact that we were staying in an exemplary hotel on a sandy promontory, decked with tropical flora and swathed in cool breezes, being plied with strong drinks.
Mauritius (I still can’t bring myself to call it Maurice without thinking of tax returns) is a volcanic outcrop that blew its top aeons ago, creating a lush landscape of jagged peaks and crashing waterfalls — about the same size as Surrey, but slightly less manicured and a lot more alluring. It is also one of those historical anomalies that tell a vast tale of exploration and exploitation, colonialism, slavery, trade and now tourism.
Planted with sugar cane by the French and peopled by African slaves, indentured Indian workers and (later) a mercantile class of Chinese migrants, the island was taken over by the British, forced to drive on the left, then left to stew in the tropical heat. Until the mid-1970s, it did just that, developing a drowsy economy based on vast estates still owned by a tiny French elite. There was a little bit of fishing and a bouillabaisse of culture — including boules, horse-racing, tea-drinking, curry and a baffling array of temples, mosques, churches and chapels. Then, a couple of years after independence, came the holidaymakers.
Originally, they were a few chic Parisian sybarites in search of exotic Indian Ocean adventure, but soon word got out and the island developed apace, with large hotels colonising the coastline. Today, most of the waterfront — especially in the north, where the best beaches are — has been divvied up between upscale hotels. But apart from on the slightly overcrowded northern tip, this has been accomplished with such elan that you rarely realise just how many people are sharing your holiday.
Thanks to some intelligent government decisions, tourism has not spoilt the natural beauty of the place. We’re talking elegant, understated resorts, usually set apart in their own grounds and with a remarkably high level of service. The French still dominate: you see lots of suave Gallic couples floating about with their pretty, Petit Bateau-wearing kids; you may even glimpse an occasional Lycra-clad cyclist attacking a Mauritian mountain, Tour de France-style. The rest of the holiday crowd is a mix of British and continental sophisticates, a few wealthy South Africans and a select group of Americans fleeing the hard sell of the Caribbean. Yes, there’s a smattering of lovey-dovey honeymooners, but just as many swish families and a lot of older people who know it’s time for a little high-end, low-key style.
And that is what they get. Mauritius has good beaches, a nicely limpid ocean and decent marine life based on the reef that wraps coral around the island — but when it comes to natural wonders, it can’t quite compete with such super-idyllic redoubts as the Maldives and the Seychelles. What Mauritius really has going for it, what makes it so special, is Mauritians. These hybrid, happy people are just unremittingly lovely, and they’ve created a tourist experience that mirrors their easy-going, ever-smiling ways.
For a start, the island is politically democratic and stable, which means no concerns about your holiday pound bolstering a dodgy regime — and that’s certainly not the case in, say, the Maldives. The whole island feels at ease with its path, which makes it easy to be there. The serenity of the majority Hindu belief system shines through, making Mauritius remarkably safe and carefree. The swaying grace of the African influence also helps; so does the commercial efficiency of the Chinese. The ability of so many peoples, including a sizeable Muslim minority, to co-exist in a small space is clear from the dazzling variety of places of worship
that pierce the skyline, not to mention the endless holy-type holidays. While Britain is going through paroxysms about the rights and wrongs of multiculturalism, this little island has been getting on with it for decades.
Service is spectacular but never servile, friendly but not ingratiating, and time and again you are made to feel welcome. And then there’s the food. Just as the locals are a fascinating melange, so their cuisine — a piquant mix of Indian and African styles, with a soupçon of French nous — is delectable. If you eat out in local places, the food will be simple: basic ways with fish and chicken, but always with some spicy tropical twist. And in the top hotels, the cooking finds a level that would grace the great restaurants of the world.
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Our hotel, Le Touessrok, down on the relatively undeveloped southeast shore, was one of the first large resorts on the island, created 20-odd years ago. It has had time to mature into a role model of effortlessly efficient hospitality. It is almost faultless at the difficult task of accommodating hundreds of people and making them all feel special. The setting is luscious: bougainvillea and hibiscus framing an arc of beaches where palms herald the ocean. The facilities are endless, and the service has all the hallmarks of that unforced Mauritian elan.
It’s fairly tough to drag yourself away from a place like that — and most people don’t. The hotel experience is the reason they came to Mauritius — but, having ventured all this way, it would be a mistake to miss out on the bigger picture.
True, the island doesn’t have many real tourist sites, and its villages are not the pretty, charming places you might have hoped for. There’s a scruffy utilitarianism about most of them, while the capital, Port Louis, is crowded and bland, although with a definite buzz about the place and decent shopping. Far better is the mountain country, a dense, ripe barrage of deep greens with flashes of red and orange, full of succulent fruits and dripping foliage, and often shrouded in tropical mist. Its dramatic peaks and valleys clash pleasingly against vast swathes of swaying cane.
Best of all, though, is to discover that your stay coincides with one of the island’s main religious festivals. If you’re lucky it will be an Indian or Tamil Hindu holy day, when the island bursts into life and colour, and the faithful flock, in all their finery, to riverside shrines carrying offerings and performing rituals. When that happens, this always splendid island is transformed from a fantastic holiday destination into a truly great travel experience.
Need to know
Robert Elms travelled to One&Only Le Touessrok as a guest of Kuoni
Travel brief: Kuoni World Class (01306 747008, www.kuoni.co.uk) has seven nights at One&Only Le Touessrok from £1,947pp, half-board, for travel until July 13 (and from £2,213 after that), based on two sharing and including flights from Heathrow on Air Mauritius. Regional connections are available on request. Other operators include Azure (01244 322770, www.azurecollection.com), ITC Classics (01244 355320, www.itcclassics.co.uk) and Exsus (020 7292 5050, www.exsus.com).
When to go: the rainy season, when afternoons are damp, is from December to April; the cheapest room rates tend to be on offer between April and July.
